


It Never Snows in Southern California

by Querulousgawks



Category: Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Romance, Season/Series 03, Veronica POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Querulousgawks/pseuds/Querulousgawks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> “I don’t want you to go,” he says and it’s just a murmur, not a plea. </em><br/>A snippet of Veronica POV in the Season 3 dream sequence, originally posted to Tumblr for the November Fanfiction Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Never Snows in Southern California

She wakes up draped in Logan and can’t remember any dreams. They must have had a good night, she thinks, unwilling to move for a minute. She hardly ever sleeps deeply when held close, but his arm is around her softly and the contact blends into the weight of the blanket, warming her up instead of pinning her down. Something had been bothering her but they must have figured it out; she can’t even recall what it was. _This place should get a Michelin star just for the bed._

Veronica doesn’t sleep naked, either, but she’s too rested to worry about it, pulling the comforter back and reaching for her clothes without question. And Logan never looks at her without hunger, hasn’t for years now, but here he is settling into the pillows like he thinks he might overflow. A damn good night, apparently. She better remember how she got that sated grin on his face. There will be coffee in the lodge to wake her up the rest of the way, and then she’ll remember.

“I don’t want you to go,” he says and it’s just a murmur, not a plea. She hasn’t seen him take contentment so for granted since he was fourteen, posing for her brand-new camera in his homecoming tux. It fills her with lightness, blue-washed like the memory, and the smile she gives him over her shoulder feels history-free.

"I wish I didn't have to."

She feels  _good,_  unselfconscious with her back bare to him, old cotton smoothing out down her sides.  It feels sexy but not daring, and who knew those came separately?   _Does_ she have to go? They are no longer those kids, but they seem to have stolen back a little of their ease. Maybe they can keep it, maybe she can turn around and he will still be looking at her with that old smile and new acceptance in his eyes. She could climb back into bed, she muses, smiling unseeing at the snow piling up outside. Watch him roll this tank top back up and then tuck his fingertips into her waistband. She’s not exactly wearing lingerie, but there’s something about this number that she thinks he’d like.

She feels like someone new, maybe that’s what it is.

Yeah, she wants back under the covers. There’s a draft all of a sudden. The place is wide open, and they’re not in California anymore. Shaking her head, she crosses to the balcony doors. 


End file.
